


003 - Shared Bathrooms

by storiesaboutvan



Category: Catfish and the Bottlemen (Band)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-10-12 13:58:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17468894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storiesaboutvan/pseuds/storiesaboutvan
Summary: A fic about: Bathtime. And Van McCann.





	003 - Shared Bathrooms

Living with Van and Larry worked out better than you had expected. You vaguely knew them through mutual friends, and when they were looking for someone to housesit (and dogsit) you were voted the most responsible. Then, when they came back, you kind of just didn't leave. It was rare that all three of you were there at the same time, so you communally shared the beds. If you were all there you'd just crash with one of them, or someone would take the couch. It was easy and it worked.

You were in the bath amusing yourself with copious amounts of bubbles and a book. There was a knock on the door. "Y/N?" Van's voice was quiet, softer than usual. 

"Yeah?" you called. 

"Can I come in?" You looked around. The amount of bubbles covered you entirely, except for your head. 

"Yep!"

As he opened the door the sounds of chatter and laughter from the lounge grew louder. You couldn't determine how many people were hanging out, but it was a lot. Van walked in with two bottles in one hand and his acoustic guitar in the other. He looked at you. 

"Can I… help you?" you asked slowly, confused. 

"Is it okay if I sit in here? I brought you a beer," he offered, placing it on the corner of the tub. 

"You alright?" 

He made some sort of nod-shrug motion. You waited for him to offer more than that. 

"Lotta people here. Just feel like being somewhere quiet?" he said, but it sounded more like a question. 

"Um… Yeah, okay. Sit there," you pointed to the end of the bath. He sat facing away from you.

You stayed like that for a long time. You reading, Van switching between doing nothing and playing small notes on the guitar that you didn't recognise but felt like lullabies. After the beers had been drunk and the noise outside died down, you wondered if Van would leave. He didn't. You had to kick him out when your fingers and toes went all wrinkly. As he walked through the doorway, back to you because the bubbles had all burst, he said "Thanks, Y/N," and the words held more weight than they should have.

...

A week later you were in the bath again. You heard Larry leave with the dogs to go for a walk. Van was yelling at him to bring back food. The house was quiet, then there was a knock on the door. 

"Can I come sit?" Van asked. 

"Do you have a better excuse this time?" you called back through the door. He came in, handed you a beer, and sat down in the same spot. 

"It wasn't an excuse. I did want quiet." 

"And now?" you replied. He shrugged and focused his attention on his guitar. He was restringing it, and the bathroom floor didn't seem like an appropriate place to do so. 

"Don't you literally pay Larry to do that?" you asked. You couldn't see him grin, but you knew he did. 

After a while, you swapped sides in the bath so that your head was next to Van's. He turned to look at you. His lashes were casting shadows under his eyes. You almost felt like you should compliment him, so instead you said, "You need to wash your hair, McCann." 

You knew you'd fucked up. As soon as the words came out of your mouth you sat up and pulled all the bubbles closer and went to say something, anything, to stop him. It was too late, of course. Van was already standing, leaning over to get the shampoo from the shower caddy. He stepped into the bath. One leg in, one out, he paused for a second. It was the moment where you could probably have stopped him, but you didn't. Then, he was sitting fully clothed in front of you. His legs spread out either side of you, and yours pulled up to your chest. The bubbles were doing an okay job, but they were bursting fast. 

"I just… You're…" you tried, but the words were gone. He grinned like he'd achieved something fantastic. He sat up straight and came closer. You were inches apart, and your heart started to race. 

"Y/N, can you wash my hair?" You tried really hard to not smile. Poker face. He moved closer, and then his arms were wrapped around you. Your noses were touching. "Please?" he asked again. You breathed out, not realising you were holding your breath at all. A small nod to say yes. His lips curled into a small smile. He nodded too.

It only took the smallest of movement to connect his lips to yours. He angled your face up just a little, and that was that. You could feel the kiss in your spine and in the bottom of your stomach and in your toes. You almost forgot to come up for air, until the front door slammed and the sound of dog barking filled the house. 

"That curry place that's never open was open!" Larry's happy voice called out. Neither you or Van replied. You were still watching each other. "Guys?"


End file.
